Eclipse
by KnightGuardian
Summary: Jack Harkness is a fixed point in time, an impossible thing but the TARDIS thinks this ex-cons the perfect cure for the Doctors lonliness. He drops in on the secret orginigation known as Torchwood via the tourist entrance only to find Jack MIA.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or Torchwood.**

******************************************************************************************

The TARDIS was still and silent, hovering between space and time, floating, drifting, with no course set. Much like the Time Lord who owned her. "So much to see, and so very little time to do it in! What'll it be then the Loreley or the Seine VIII or…" the bubbling excitement trailed off ebbing away like a dying sun waiting to explode.

It was so easy to forget that they were gone. Off living there little lives.

_Sarah Jane Smith. Rose Tyler. Jack. Martha Jones. Donna Noble. _

Gone. All , his Companions they all stepped into the TARDIS planning to travel the Stars with him for the rest of there short lives providing he let them and all the running didn't kill them first – and yet here he was.

Alone_._ Again.

Alone. Always.

Here was the one man, well, being, who could literally be anywhere any time and do anything and yet he'd settle for a shared drink in a nice shop with a friendly, familiar, face.

_"A little company, is that really to much to ask? Oh, and a jar of jam, mustn't forget the jam, love the jam."_

The little ironies of the Universe were not lost on him. Here was the last of the Time Lords and all he wanted was a little friendly chitchat and jam, that's it, that's all.

To go a spell without having to run for his life, dodge gunfire, or divert an intergalactic war. Not that he didn't love it, the running, the dodging, the being necessary, the idea that he was a part of something bigger.

Something more in the greater scheme of the cosmos than a Gallifryan without a home, a wanderer, a _brilliant_ wanderer who'd never stopped running.

Sometimes, when he's had far too much time to think he wonders if he ever will.

Deciding that enough was enough and it was time to put a stop to these maudlin musings that led to nowhere but dark places the TARDIS took control setting a straight course for Cardiff, Wales.

The Doctor didn't have to be alone, just get over his pride. He had friends, any one of them would welcome a stop by – he was the only one who couldn't see that. And then of course there was Jack, the impossible fact of the Universe, a fixed point in time. A definite, an always, maybe he was exactly the reminder the Doctor needed.

_He is not alone. _

The rattling, rumbling that equated for TARDIS turbulence sent the Doctor sprawling across the deck of his ship, she was regretful but not apologetic.

For such a brilliant being her Time Lord sometimes required a good knocking.

"What in the seven stars was that for!" he demanded warily getting to his feet rubbing the back of his neck as he edged to the door cautiously sticking his head out to see what was about with his hair sticking every which way and his pinstriped suite wrinkled from the rattling toss around the TARDIS had given him.

Her idea of a scolding it would seem, his own ship was _scolding _him!

It took one hour of aimless wandering, three come-ons – a woman wearing a lovely red dress that barely covered her panties, a young man sporting far to much eyeliner, and an older man that gave him a Look.

The sort Jack was known for only far more subtle, he looked like he wanted to eat him which reminded him of his brief encounter with the Donner party that had been an absolute fiasco!

Bu he was getting off topic again...three come-on's and one disgusting hotdog later and the Doctor chose a destination, it was always so much harder to do when nothing was dogging his heels or breathing down his neck.

But fun.

Nice.

Good heavens he'd been domesticated!

The Doctor stuck his hands in his pockets and ambled his way to the reception desk of Torchwood where Jacks _personal assistant_, Ianto Jones was seated – it was a slow day for Torchwood too it would seem.

Jack owed him a drink; maybe it was time he collected. Jack would like that, he bet.

Putting on a friendly smile the Doctor walked up to the desk, "Hello, I'm looking for Captain Jack Harkness. Tall, well tallish, dark haired, handsome fellow, well for a human, impulsive flirt, you work for him?"

"Pardon me sir? No Captains here sir, just me, as you can tell. But if you like I can do a search-" the Doctor cut him off, "Oi! I don't have the time for this, well, I do its not the end of the world, well, not yet anyways."

The Doctor shrugged at the PA's peculiar look, why was he looking at him like that?

Did he have something stuck in his teeth?

It had happened once when he was dinging with the dignitaries of What's-its-name and the Princess of Torifolium II.

The Doctor refocused, starting over, "Lets try this again shall we, I'm the Doctor, you're Torchwood, and I'm looking for Jack, you wouldn't happen to know where he is by any chance?"

"You're the Doctor?"

"Yes"

"The Doctor?"

"Well, yes"

"Jacks Doctor?"

"Oh never mind" the Doctor mumbled in exasperation, was there an echo?

Yes, he was the Doctor, no not _Jacks' _Doctor, just _the Doctor_.

Pulling out a long cylindrical devise that was blue at the top and put out some kind of electromagnetic charge he looked about the room explaining, "This here is my sonic-screwdriver, good at opening things people want closed…and…yes…there it is…finding doors you'd prefer hidden. Coming?" the Doctor asked leading the way into the way into the Hub, Ianto close at his heels.

"So this is the honorary Team Torchwood, eh?" the Doctor said catching the attention of the three people inhabiting the base. There was a charming Asian girl typing away at the computer screen, a pale faced man with what seemed a perpetual grimace on his face tinkering with what looked to be some alien device, and then there was the dark haired woman with her gun pointed square in his face, lovely start this was turning out to be.

"Who the hell are you?" polite this one was.

Affecting his best I-come-in-peace-don't-shoot smile he raised his hands.

"Hello, I'm the Doctor."

The gun wavered, lowering a fraction, "Your name mate, what's your name?" the pale faced man with dark narrowed eyes demanded looking him over like an insect beneath a microscope, unpleasant fellow than one.

"Just the Doctor _mate_," he said dragging out the syllable and ending with a pop that echoed loudly in the near silence of the Hub as Team Torchwood sized him up like he was the newest possible threat to their perfect little world.

"And could you please put that gun down? Thank you" he said when the gun was holstered safely out of sight.

"Honestly do you people greet everyone with a gun in there face, so much for Welsh hospitality. I just popped in for a little chitchat but now that I'm here I'm thinking this wasn't one of my brightest ideas and believe me I've had a few of those."

"No, wait! I'm sorry really I am. But this is supposed to be a secret organization" she explained darting a pointed look to the Jones boy.

"Don't look at him, I found my own way down here all by my lonesome, you had a door you didn't want found, now how could I possibly resist that? Its like putting up a great big button and saying _"don't push this"_ in bold red letters couldn't help myself."

"You're daft" he heard the pale man mutter.

"Not at all I'm quite clever really."

"Not everyday someone waltz's in here without our say-so," the woman who'd been pointing the gun at him said hurrying down the steps ignoring the pale mans comment completely.

"I'm Gwen Cooper, that's Toshiko Sato over there, and that ones Owen Harper the team Doctor around here. So, you're the Doctor, like _the_ Doctor, Jack's Doctor."

"_Why is it everyone keeps saying that, do I have "Property of Jack" stamped onto my forehead?" _before he could protest the word association he'd been musing over she had carried on speaking barely taking a moment to breathe, he kept waiting for her to pass out or take a breath.

"It's an honor to meet you, I'd say I've heard all about you but that'd be a lie, Jack's so close-mouthed about you, but then I suppose that says something too. I'll see about contacting Jack, it is Jack you wanted to speak with right?" she chattered on, becoming a white noise in the background as he studied his surroundings.

Jack had done well for himself.

Sometimes the man surprised him by doing something brilliant when he least expected it. Not that he'd ever say, the man thought enough of himself for the both of them!

"He's what?" the Doctor asked coming in at the tail end of the sentence, "Weevil hunting."

"Oh, what, wait, what's a Weevil?"

"Well, um, its kind of a- Tosh, you explain" Gwen said turning the Asian girl, "He asked you," she said coolly barely looking up from her computer screen and keyboard.

The Doctor cleared his throat, "He's standing right here."

"Right, sorry. Well, a weevil is kind of like a, um, hunched up elderly person, up to the neck part of the body leastwise then its like a oblong shaped thing, wrinkly, small eyes, and teeth, sharp teeth…feel free to join in any time guys" Gwen ground out through a false smile trying her best to explain to the Doctor what a weevil was.

"Its an alien" Owen grunted.

"Right that narrowed it down to, what, a couple hundred billon beings, brilliant observation doctor," the Doctor said with heavy sarcasm that the Torchwood doctor shrugged off with indifference.

"Weevil hunting doesn't take this long he should be back by now, I don't want to be playing babysitter to Jack's old _friends_" the sneer on Owen face disappeared the second Gwen turned towards him, which the Doctor found amusing. Humans. They were so odd.

It seemed the woman with the gun was in charge when Jack was absent.

"Right, and I suppose you were done so soon the last time?" she asked with a pointed look that said volumes, the corner of her lip ticking up in a suppressed grin. The Doctor found he liked Gwen Cooper.

"Weevil hunting doesn't take this long for _Jack_" he amended with strange mix of envy and disgust that the Doctor found baffling, was this not a good thing then?

"After all its not like he's gotta worry about _dying_ like the rest of us mere mortals" Owen sneered.

Gwen crossed her arms anxiously, "Don't be an ass Owen."

The Doctor stood there a moment taking in the awkward silence, "So where is he then, if not, what was it you said, weevil hunting?" he said the last word uttered with what sounded to Owen like blatant suspicion, he'd go so far as to say anger.

"Look, mate, weevil's are big, ugly, aliens with sharp teeth a human crosses there path and they rip 'em to shreds so don't go all alien-rights-activist on us, Jack's just trying to keep the human body count to a minimum."

Irritation pricked at the Doctor like a thorn in his shoe, like a burr in his side.

"_Human body count, eh?"_

Owen was like a boy baiting a lion with a pointy stick as his defense.

"Human body count? Really? That the best you can come up with because that's rather pathetic as far as reasoning goes, and insulting if I may say so myself" the Doctor said his voice gaining in volume and speed as he looked between them all – only Owen the doctor didn't carefully look away.

"_Maybe there is some decency left here yet." _

"What about non-humans, humanoids, or human looking-but-aren't, don't they have just as much a right to life as you lot?" there went his mouth again, speaking when it should be silent.

Egging on Torchwood employees, known for there fondness for guns and violence, was not one of his brightest ideas.

"_Blimey, where is Jack?"_

"We don't kill them, as a rule" Gwen offered with a degree of understanding and compassion that this Torchwood doctor, _Owen_, seemed to lack.

"I'm definitely going to be needing a word with your Captain" the Doctor concluded looking between them all as though the sight of them was vaguely distasteful.

"Jack's not answering" Ianto said speaking up for the first time, "What did I tell you, he's likely chasing tail at some pub and forgotten to report back, right now he's likely having it on, or being had in some pubs backroom, don't tell me that not what you're all thinking" Owen said, daring them to deny it.

Ianto shrugged weakly as though to say, _"That's just Jack for you."_

The Doctor frowned to think that the team would say such a thing about their Captain – before an absolute stranger no less – it didn't sit well with him. Jack was an impulsive flirt, and shamelessly sexual by nature at times, _most_ times, but even so he deserved better from his own people.

Beneath all those distracting mega-watt smiles meant to either divert attention or gain it, he was a good man.

_"I only travel with the best. Except for Adam, though he was more a hitcher than Companion, and only because Rose wanted to bring him along, the tosser."_

"Check his coordinates Tosh, you can do that cant you" Owen snapped, "And I swear if he's at some pub-" the Doctor raised an eyebrow crossing his arms as he stood in the Hub watching the team doctor fuss and grumble.

"Well nothing I suppose, cant even kill him now can I, him being the man who cant die an' all" Owen finished with a stiff smile that indicated that he thought himself rather droll.

The Doctor's lips thinned into a tight grimace, making a sound of disgust in the back of his throat.

What had really set the Doctors' hearts to pounding like a jackhammer in his chest was the thought that maybe the Brit was right, maybe Jack was having it on in some backroom, and that more than anything disturbed him for reasons unknown.

Maybe it was just that when he'd stopped in he'd expected Jack to be there, like he always was whenever the Doctor, wanted, needed him to be.

No questions no fuss, he was just there – like the best kind of friend or the most professional soldier, always on call.

His mind going a mile, or a couple hundred really, a minute an image popped to mind a very unwelcome, and incredibly graphic one.

Jack.

Cavorting with some nameless, faceless person in a dark shaded pub, the lack of lightening darkening Jack's eyes to a murky blue, his mouth and tongue tangled with someone else.

Hands gripping his hair in tight fistfuls as Jack gripped a table edge, face flushed, eyes dilated, as that nameless person drove him wild with pleasure…but when he came it wasn't the mysterious, faceless persons name on his lips it was his.

"_My name on his lips, since when was that rattling about in my head?"_

No immediate answer was forthcoming, and he if he had no answer brilliant genius that he was, then none would.

The Doctor blinked in quiet surprise, _"Okay maybe not quite so unwelcome" _he thought as he felt his body respond to the mental stimulus.

It was a normal enough response he supposed. Jack was a very attractive man, if you liked the blue eyed, hark haired sort with at least a hundred years worth of baggage.

_Pot and kettle_, the TARDIS reminded him and he could feel traces of soft mocking laughter in the back of his head.

The TARDIS had a point there he conceded.

Jack _was_ handsome, and he _was _much bigger on the inside than he'd ever willingly show.

"But thinking of him like that is just so odd!" he muttered to himself, where had those thoughts even come from?

Laughter ticked his mind, and he had his answer. The Doctor sighed supposing that as far as fantasies went it could have been far worse it could have been Mickey the Idiot, the Time Lord shivered at the very thought.

* * *

**Warning: there are non-consensual events in later chapters.**


	2. Chapter 2

*************************************************************************************************

One more drink, and then he really had to leave. He needed a shower, food, and Ianto possibly in that order. Tracking the weevil through Cardiff's seedier spots had lefts its mark; he'd have to get Ianto to send his coat to the dry-cleaners this week before the stains became permanent.

"I'm boring you, of course I'm boring you here I've been nattering away for three minutes straight, let me buy you another one" said the young man who'd been blatantly hitting on him the second he walked through the door, he was cute if a little green.

Jack grinned.

"If I didn't know any better I'd think you were trying to get me drunk" the man flushed shaking his head, "Of course not."

Jack laughed "You don't need to get me drunk to get me in bed, in fact you don't need a bed at all" he murmured his hand brushing over Tim, or was it Jim, as he poured another shot of brandy.

All the while eyeing-up the man who was now blushing a charming shade of cherry and just to clinch it he leaned forward brining them nose to nose, his breath ghosting over the mans cheek tantalizing him with the barest hint of 51st century pheromones, "And any other night I'd take you up on that drink."

Pleasure, surprise, then disappointment with the slowly dawning realization flashed across the young mans face.

"Oh" the kid looked like someone had shot his puppy or hinted at really great sex only to yank his chain, which admittedly wasn't very nice, but then Jack wasn't a very nice man.

The kid was all big brown doe-eyes and lush lips turned down in an almost-pout that just about had Jack changing his mind, _"Nope, not tonight I've a job to do."_

"So, will I see you around?"

"If your lucky" Jack said then with a wink and a dramatic flair of his RAF coat he was gone back into the night.

A group that had been watching the two men at the bar with suspicious intensity filed out clearly tailing the bloke in the military coat but nobody noticed. Most to far into their cups, and the rest thought nothing of it – barely a blip on their radar.

As for Tim he was to busy drowning his sorrows in a glass of brandy, wasn't often a guy like _that_ walked into a place like this.

He was being followed.

He picked up on that two minutes down the road from the pub. Just when he could use a good weevil they were all skulking underground like good aliens, damn!

Jack had them pegged as amateurs, or punk kids looking to raise a little hell and get some easy cash. He was more annoyed than worried; all Jack had on him was the 20 quid in his pocket – the worst they could do was steal his money, or kill him.

Or both, both was a definite possibility.

The Hub was only a few blocks away and they still hadn't shown themselves, maybe he was getting paranoid in old age?

"_Nah. They're stalling…" _

From there everything happened fast.

Turning the corner he came face to shovel and skull-splitting pain sent him reeling. Jack got in two wild shots; winging two of the punks then it was all stars and nightey night for Captain Jack Harkness.

He didn't black out often but when he did it was a doozey, waking felt like he'd been on a weeklong bender without the benefit of lots and lots of brandy, and sex.

"Would someone just shoot me already?" Jack grumbled as awareness returned, "I think you scrambled my brain."

"Look Nancy-boy is waking up!" a male voice sneered, somewhere close, to close for comfort with him being handcuffed to the floor and naked.

Hard to miss that fact when it was cold, and the rug was cheap.

"You know if you'd wanted to get me naked so badly you should've just said so, wasted a lot of time stalking me" he said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"We don't like pretty-boy's like you," said that same male voice.

"Yeah? Doesn't look that way from down here," he mocked looking over his captors with a careful eye. They were young he surmised none a day over twenty-seven tops, not to hideous to look at but right now he'd rather shag a Weevil than any one of these boys.

He was naked and cuffed to the floor it didn't take a genius to see where this was headed.

He liked sex, a lot that was pretty much a given, what he didn't like is when a bunch of yahoo's jumped him and got it in there heads to teach him the error of his ways by shagging him senseless, of course. As though that was the magic cure to the fact that he was more flexible than these narrow-minded apes and their quaint little ideals…

_"Oh God, I'm starting to think like the Doctor now" _Jack realized with a mental shake.

"We're going to make you wish you were dead," said the apparent spokesperson for this rag-tag bunch and he said it with so much confidence that Jack couldn't help himself.

He laughed.

"Sorry lads but that's a taller order than you can handle."

He'd suffered death by Darlek, been shot, burned, electrocuted, drowned, strangled, pushed off a cliff, trampled by wild horses, the list went on and on; what could they possibly do to him that hadn't been done already either by chance, circumstances of war, or more recently the Master?

The leader snarled wordlessly slamming a steel-toe boot into his ribs, Jack heard them crack.

"Sorry, private joke you wouldn't get it" he gasped even as they kicked him again, this time it was a group effort as they lashed out with a viciousness reserved to the dregs of humanity.

It started with the usual.

First they used their firsts descending on him like wolves to fresh meat. Bloodlust gleaming in their eyes with a manic fever as blow after blow landed each harder, more painful than the last and all that could be heard was the thud of flesh on flesh followed by a litany of taunts.

"That all you got boy? Come on you hit like a nine-year-old-girl" Jack said even as another fist snapped his head to the side, blood trailing down his chin in its wake, "Not bad."

"Shut up!" the leader snarled backhanding Jack who took it in silence whipping his head back around, leveling him with a cold stare that sent shivers down the other mans back, all he said was "No."

"Shut up or-" he started but Jack cut him off abruptly, "Or what, you'll punch me, you'll kick me? Oh I know you'll kill me? Or what, hmm?" Jack mocked meeting the leaders eyes head on, "You'll fuck me?"

"Shut the Nancy-boy up Greg!" one of the others snapped.

"Do it yourself" Greg said stepping back, that's when the kicking started.

_Damn, did he have to have steel-toe boots? _

Jack groaned hearing his ribs snap with a sickening crunch.

For the first twenty minutes he tried to catalog the bruises and breaks, trying to distance himself before these boys worked up to the next level, but after hearing his arm snap like a twig from a particularly nasty blow he stopped.

"Not so tough now are yea? Yea bloody poof" one of his five captors spat, curly hair, nice-eyes.

Jack would've shagged him in a second under other circumstances, as it was he spat on him, earning him another slap that left a red imprint on his face.

Even as they'd beat him they'd hurled words at him like a lash, seared into his mind like a broken record.

Before they were done more than just his ribs were cracking before they were done words – like filth – crammed themselves into the crevices and cracks surrounding the walls he'd built around himself long ago.

_Nancy. Dirty. Fag. Poof. _

_Slut. Whore. Wrong. Freak. _

_Nancy. Dirty. Fag. Poof. _

_Slut. Whore. Wrong. Freak. _

_Nancy. Dirty. Slut. Whore. _

_Wrong. Wrong. Wrong._

"You stupid, dirty lil' whore!" on said spitting on him.

Jack swiped it off angrily.

"Why don't you leave me the fuck alone if I'm such a dirty whore?" Jack growled one arm wrapped around his shattered ribs as the other tugged uselessly on the cuffs binding him.

This wasn't funny anymore.

"Because Nancy-boy, we're going to teach you a lesson." Cold dread suffused him like a blast of ice over his insides. He'd heard those words before, or ones close enough, and he still hadn't forgotten.

_Freak. Wrong. Handsome Jack._

Timelines tumbled together, jumbled and chaotic forming one huge black hole of bad memories sucking the warmth from his bones like a yawning abyss ready to swallow him up. Jack shook his head, he was in Cardiff, the Master was dead, and That Year had never happened, it was the past, and it was going to damn well stay in the past too!

"_Focus Jack." _

A kick to the groin had him back to the present, snarling "Son of a bitch!" as excruciating pain shot through him.

"Careful," said the quiet one who'd stood at the back and watched, "We don't want him unconscious."

Jack glared at him, "Yeah, you don't want me unconscious" he mimicked at the rest before turning back to the disturbingly quiet one in the back, "Hard to get a power trip off someone whose as responsive as a dead fish."

The quiet one blinked.

"Yeah, I know all about your types, cant get off unless you're in control, unless you're shagging someone and forcing you're dick down well, what is your preference, girl, boy, hermaphrodite?" the others laughed, falling silent under his chilly stare.

"Greg, do it."

"But-"

"Now."

"Yeah Greg, do it!" Jack said egging him on.

Greg swallowed nodding stuck somewhere between anticipation and uncertainty.

"Come on Greg, don't you know what to do with your dick, or haven't you ever used it before?" one of the others laughed "Maybe I'd better show you, just so you know where to stick it."

"Show him Jay," the quiet one ordered, watching with that queer gleam in his eye.

"You want cock? I'll give it to you" Jay muttered his breath hot and fetid at the back of Jacks neck, "You want to fuck me, fine? At least have the balls to look me in the eye while you do it, or aren't you man enough for that?"

Jay ignored him; kneeling behind Jack he shoved his legs apart a hand at the back of his neck forcing him forwards as cold harsh hands grabbed tightly at his hips one sharp thrust later Jack was screaming hoarsely and Jay was quivering as the prisoners tight ass clenched around his cock.

"God, oh God, so good" the man muttered nonsensically as he withdrew, thrusting long and hard again and again the assault rocking Jacks' body as far forward at he could go, his face pressed down into the cheap carpet, dust tickled at his nose uncomfortably.

Jack tightened his muscles and the boy was a goner unable to help himself as the other mans arse tightened around him like a vice. Jay thrust twice more, two quick shallow strokes that still burned, ached – and then he was a finished sticky come filling Jacks arse. For the first time Jack really did feel like a cheap whore, _"Well used and hard fucked." _

Jay inhaled deeply biting down on the back of Jack's neck, and was instantly hard again as desire hit him, something about his smell, his tight arse, the way he took Jay's thrusts deep into his body clenching tight around his cock…God. He had to have him, just one more time…

"Looks like Jay's getting a taste for Nancy-boys!" one of the others exclaimed.

Jay ignored them rubbing his cock against the prisoners' ass, the slip an' slide of friction alone driving him wild. The one called Jay was prepping for round two spreading his legs even farther apart.

Never mind that he was as spread as he could possibly get. Jack prided himself on his endurance and flexibility but he wasn't some young thing just out of gymnastics.

He wasn't all that damn bendable!

Jays' cock was pressed up against his ass; the thick blunt head already sticky and slick with pre-come, "Son of a bitch!" Jack snarled as Jay tore into him with his huge assed dick, again.

"Do you have to be such a bastard" Jack grit out as the urge to cry out constricted his throat, and all he could think was, "_Shit, shit, shit, shit!" _

Greg laughed squatting down, a sneer on his face.

"This isn't about pleasure, this is about teaching you that you're wrong, you freak."

Jack flinched; he couldn't help it, the words to fresh in his memory.

"_The Doctor didn't mean it like that you dumb ass, the Doctor doesn't even think like that." _

"Yeah? Well tell that to Blondie, because he seems to be getting off just fine" Jack retorted but his words were weak, ground out between breaths as pain radiated through his body.

Jays' cock impaled him repeatedly – rough and hard and dirty – with blood trickling down his thighs he knew something inside had torn, and the night hadn't even begun.

"_One down, five more to go…shit this is going to be a rough night."_

* * *

**Author Note: This is my first venture into Torchwood & Doctor Who writing. **

**R & R please!**


	3. Chapter 3

*************************************************************************************************

The Doctor was getting ready to send out his own one-man search, _himself._

None of these Torchwood lot seemed inclined to be of any use. Although to be fair, the Jones boy had offered his services.

For a split second the Doctor paused thinking of all the ways Jack would have enjoyed twisting that sentence around until it wasn't at all what he'd meant.

"_But then that's Jack for you." _

"Can't you track his comm.? That is what those things attached to your ears are, right?" the Doctor snapped. The pale-faced man looked at him for a long moment as though trying to decide something, before turning away "Jesus Christ mate, what are you his mother? Chill."

"_Well then there goes that, no help from that side, maybe one of the others then? Perhaps the young Ianto Jones…" _the Doctor froze mid thought the rest escaping him at the sound of the Hub doors sliding back.

Nothing had ever sounded more glorious… _"Well perhaps glorious is a bit much…"_

The Hub doors slid back and the Doctor whirled around anxious, annoyed, and more than a little relieved, a lot relieved in fact.

But it wasn't Jack.

No military RAF coat, no hint of 51st centaury pheromones, no blue eyes and cheesy-but-honest smiles.

"What? Is there something on my shirt?" the PA asked looking down self-consciously with a look of serious concern as thought it was a very important matter, having something on his otherwise immaculate shirt.

"No, nothing, nothing at all" the Doctor said after a lengthy pause, "We're still waiting on Jack."

"Oh" Ianto said but with that one syllable he said so much more.

_Now I'm worried. _

_He should be back. _

_He should have checked in. _

_Something's wrong. _

All that tidied up into one Welsh vowel.

"_No wonder Jack likes him" _the Doctor mused he doesn't babble on for ages with what can be summed up nice and neatly.

"_Nothing at all like you" _his subconscious said, and was that disappointment?

No, no that would be silly.

"A weevil shouldn't take this long, not for Jack."

"_Yes right, back to the matter at hand – so to speak – the mystery of the missing Captain." _

"That's what everybody keeps saying."

"Alright then, I've waited long enough if one of my Companions had gone missing like this I would have gone looking for them ages ago, pardoning some world wide crisis's or planetary war's about to erupt of course, although, that does seem to happen quite a lot when I'm around, either my timing is that good, or that bad. Depends how you look at it 'suppose" the Doctor said striding towards the door.

"Wait, you cant!" Gwen said standing in front of him, effectively blocking his way.

_Was he a prisoner new then? _

He arched an eyebrow, "Really? Why is that? Am I a prisoner then?" he asked aloud. Gwen shook her head, "No, nothing so dramatic."

"_Jack'd 'ave our heads for pulling a stunt like that." _

"I just don't think it's a good idea. If anything were to happen to you while you were here, and we knowingly let you wonder about out there in the dark…Jack would 'ave our heads on a pike, you know" she calmly explained, sending up a quick prayer in hopes that the Doctor listened because Jack really wouldn't be pleased if something were to happen to this man under there watch.

She suspected that for all that their Captain had ultimately chosen _Them_, he was still in love with the _Doctor_.

But she was reaching in the dark; Jack was hard to read at the best of times, and impossible in regards to this mysterious Doctor.

"I'm a big boy Gwen Cooper, more than able of taking care of myself. I've been doing it even longer than your Captain has. Besides it's Cardiff. What could possibly go wrong?" the Doctor inquired, and then he remembered the Slitheen, that little insident in 1900, and then there was that invasion on Christmas, his grin faded a bit.

She had a point.

"Oh alright, one more hour, and that's it, nonnegotiable. One hour and I go looking for your Captain myself, with or without you lot" he said dead serious, his coffee colored eyes boring into her Gwen could do nothing but nod sharply, "One hour and Owen will have finished his autopsy, and Tosh will have installed whatever new system she's been working on, and we'll all go find Jack and drag him back to base, together."

"_One hour, what could possibly happen in one hour" _the Doctor thought with conviction.

Chances were some pretty thing at one bar or another was chatting up Jack and he'd wander in before the night was through.

Later, when he's had time to reflect on the course of the night the Doctor will wish he hadn't waited.

After all lot can happen in an hour.

* * *

**Authors Note: _I just wanted to leave a special thank you to Athina for the review because it seriously made my day, I'm thrilled that you think I can write the Doctor and have liked "Eclipse" thus far._**

_Read and Review please, feed my Muse. She's hungry. _


	4. Chapter 4

*************************************************************************************************

"_The van smells of sex and blood"_ the man at the back of the van thought watching as Greg forced his cock down the prisoners throat watching with fascination as he struggled to breath through his nose, almost gagging as Greg gripped his hair and thrust hard.

Studying the two writhing naked bodies bloodied and sweat slicked he felt his own body react pleasantly the blood rushing down South.

He groaned, waiting restlessly for his turn.

The wait would be worth it.

He liked them all bloodied and broken, submissive even.

It was just easier, that and the look in their eyes, God, it always drove him mad with hunger to see the tattered remains of there shattered souls, all humiliated and ashamed.

There was nothing in this world as sweet a victory as that kind of mastery over another man.

He could see the outline of Greg's cock at the prisoners' throat.

Another hard pump down the prisoners throat had Greg screaming and scrambling away clutching his dick protectively, "You fag! I'm going to fuck you so hard for this!" he shouted slamming the prisoners face into the floor.

"I'm so scared, I'm shaking, cant you tell?" Jack retorted raising his head a fraction.

"_Still not broken, this one is unusually resilient" _the man thought watching it play out with interest thinking maybe this wasn't the mans first encounter with less than consensual intercourse.

The boy Greg was rubbed his cock vigorously as the prisoner taunted him.

"What can't get it up any more Greg?" Jack mocked.

It took a while but eventually Greg got himself hard and slammed Jack onto his back forcing his legs up in the air he fucked him hard enough to make a Silurian weep, but Jack didn't.

Greg's mouth crushed his lips in a harsh parody of a kiss, teeth clicking his tongue forcing its way into Jacks' mouth. The man ravaged his body like an animal in heat as he forced brutal kisses on his lips, leaving them bruised and swollen.

Hiking his legs higher Greg thrust down into his torn and bloody arse, eliciting another sharp gasp, quickly silenced, and then he came pleasure pulsed through his veins, spotting his vision for a moment.

Sated and content Greg pulled out and started tugging off his belt.

Jacks eyes widened, "Please" he started to say before he clamped his mouth shut, they wouldn't listen, and he wasn't about to lower himself to begging, he wouldn't give these bastards that satisfaction.

He could take this…

A whoosh of leather was the only warning as the belt gouged his skin his body shaking uncontrollably as another dose of searing mind-blowing pain descended with each calculating stroke of the belt as Greg painted his back and ass red with blood.

It came down repeatedly never loosing its sting as it ripped into already bruised skin.

By the sixth he was gasping – loudly – but the tenth he was shouting – voice roughed over by pain – by the twentieth he was silent – numb and empty all over – by the thirtieth he was curled up as much as his cuffs would allow black dots dancing before his eyes moments from blissful unconsciousness – or death he wasn't sure which – they stopped.

"I don't want him dead Greg, its no fun fucking a corpse!" one of the others, a nameless boy with long greasy black hair said.

"He's all yours" Greg said backing off, the nameless boy didn't waste time with words he yanked Jack up by the hair, pried his mouth open and said "Suck, or I'll put a bullet between your pretty blue eyes."

Jack smiled toothily, "Go ahead, shoot me."

Pulling a gun from his back pocket he pressed the barrel flat against Jacks forehead, he just looked up at him blankly.

"A .35 caliber, should do the job nicely, makes quite a mess though, you ever had brain splattered all over you boy? Hope you're not to fond of that shirt" Jack said absently, as though they were discussing what kind of food he liked, not the damage his gun would do to Jacks' head at point-blank range.

"Go ahead, do it, pull the trigger."

"Are you crazy?"

"What difference does it make? Crazy, sane, willing, not willing, which is me by the way very not willing. Which is unexpected because typically I'll lay anything, at least that's what everyone says, although they don't know that I know that they say it" Jack muttered with a almost amused expression before it hardened again, "But at the moment I'd rather get fucked by a weevil than you."

Jack met the punks' eyes unflinchingly, "Pull the trigger," he said with a shrug.

"I'd rather have a bullet in my head than your little prick down my throat."

"Crazy son of a bitch" the punk snarled pulling the trigger, the gun shot loud in the van.

Jack cried out as the bullet tore through his upper thigh. Blood sluggishly trickled down his chin from where he'd bit through his lip.

After a moment to regain his composure he calmly looked at the boy saying disconsolately, "That won't kill me."

"He's crazy!" the punk muttered, the others shrugged in the end it didn't really matter.

He'd been right about that one.

A fist slammed into his face and dirty, smelly, fingers pried his mouth open.

He obliged just to get the hands off his face.

Jack let him fuck his face until he came the semen dribbled from the corner of his mouth as he was forced to swallow.

The men watched avidly there bodies reacting instinctively, the man was obscenely beautiful even with come smeared at the corner of his mouth and blood dripping down his pale skin.

He was wrong, filthy, and dirty but there was something about him that appealed to them, the way he fought, the way he smelled, the way he screamed…

Forcing his thoughts elsewhere as the boy used his mouth again Jack wondered how long it'd be before he could give a decent blowjob without shuddering.

"_Damn, they should be about done with me soon, what the hell else can they possibly do?" _

Jack just wanted the night to end, he hurt more than he had in a long time, in every way a man could hurt.

He was worn out and fell fucked, his ass burned and his body ached, there was only so long he could keep this position.

His legs were starting to go numb.

He wished the same could be said of his ass.

_"It's going to be slow moving for a while"_ he thought bitterly, _"With absolutely no sex." _

Jack wondered what Ianto would say to that, he'd likely think Jack had either come down with some disease or that he was not _Jack_. Jack and sex were synonymous.

Obviously he wouldn't be sharing this little adventure with his team.

It was downright embarrassing that a bunch of idiot boys had gotten the drop on Captain Jack Harkness.

"Suck you slut!"

Right that was the kid fucking his face nattering at him again.

Jack averted his eyes and sucked tentatively, tying to find that place in his mind where there _wasn't_ someone fucking his face. He liked taking it up the ass, he liked sex, and he liked giving head or getting it – although there the getting was always better – but a little lubrication, that wasn't his own blood, and preparation, went a long way towards making things pleasurable instead of feeling like they were using their dicks as battering rams and his ass was the damn door.

The boy using his mouth grunted shooting his come down Jacks throat; he gagged panicking as he fought for breath. He knew he couldn't die but it was that human instinct to survive, even if for him death was sometimes kinder. Just as he was spitting up the last bit of come, the other guy saunter forward, it was the quiet one that creped the hell out of Jack.

Without any fanfare he walked around so he stood in front of him and Jack realized he was a little older than the others, a touch of gray at the temples giving him a distinguished look.

He wasn't like the punk kids out for a power trip and a little gay bashing he was after something else.

"_Pain, this guy gets off on domination and inflicting pain, ah shit just what I need to make a bad night worse." _

The man slowly unzipped his pants his cock bobbing out obscenely. His cock already flushed an ugly red in anticipation.

Jack swallowed, tensing, his throat raw and scraped, his ass bleeding – had been since Greg the asshole – and now this guy wanted to stick that monster in him?

Shit, he'd rather shoot _himself_ in the head.

"Open wide boy!"

"Fuck you" Jack retorted his voice rough and scratchy, the man laughed, "No I don't think so, I said open up boy," he repeated quietly.

He was calm, to calm for Jacks liking.

Not that he liked much of anything tonight.

Jack clamped his mouth shut in refusal.

The man grinned.

"Fine, you wanna play it like that now slut? I can play too," he said grabbing something from the bag that had been at his feet. Seeing what the man had grabbed Jack paled visibly.

"No, no, please…I cant" he begged, and hated himself for it.

He could only take so much….

"Please. Don't" he finished quietly his eyes locked on the floor, humiliation burning him to the core. "Tell me that you want it, you want me to fuck your face, then you're sweet ass, say it boy," the man demanded with that same quiet tone that sent shivers down Jacks spine.

"I-I want it, fuck me" Jack said softly his words barely loader than a whisper, his eyes still on the floor. "What was that, couldn't hear you freak?" the man taunted waving about the didilo that was even bigger than his cock, it was as thick around the head as a cucumber.

"Please, just do it" Jack pleaded with him, his eyes darting about desolately at the mocking faces of the other punks, they were practically drooling, salivating at the mouth like rabid dogs.

"Alright, since you beg so pretty. Now suck" the man ordered pressing his cock down Jacks throat in one deep thrust.

"Good boy, you like it don't you?" the man muttered fisting Jacks hair tightly, tossing the toy to Greg with a cruel smile.

Jack was too preoccupied with the mans' cock to notice, until something hard and cold was shoved up his ass with enough force to rock his body forward ripping a muffled scream from his throat.

His eyes watered against his will a few tears escaping, racing down his cheek, tears of shame.

"_Ah hell, I'm crying, I'm fucking crying. Shit"_ Jack realized weakly, hating himself for being unable to control his own reactions.

His dick was hardening as the man began feeling him up his hand – the one not fisting Jacks hair – stroking his hardened length even as the mans hips bucked forcing his cock all the way into Jacks pliant mouth.

"I think he likes it Frank!" Greg laughed.

The man grinned, "He's a real slut this one, aren't you, hmm?" Jack didn't say anything, didn't even try, couldn't anyway with cock in his mouth.

Frank nodded to Greg who chuckled, and drove the toy in even harder, eliciting another muffled scream from Jack who could do nothing but take it.

"You like it, don't you pretty-boy?"

Jack bobbed his head wordlessly, feeling ridicules and humiliated.

The punks laughed, their mockery ringing in his ears.

The man called Frank came pretty quickly after that, his cock sliding out limp and useless. He stared down at it mildly disgusted, he needed it hard if he was going to ride pretty-boys sweet arse.

Jack knelt there on all fours clearing his throat of the sickening fluids with a hacking cough, he felt nauseous and dirty, and worn-out – it hurt to move, it hurt to think.

He was a mess, and he knew it he could feel the blood trickling down his thighs in rivulets, the gunshot wound bleeding something awful, soon they'd be slipping in the blood covering the floor.

God, maybe they'd do something merciful and shoot him dead now.

Jack knelt on the floor for what felt like hours as they worked him over with there fists, again, as though the first time hadn't done enough damage, as though he wasn't already slowly dying from internal bleeding. The only thing tethering him to life was his rapid healing ability, which was more a curse than ever right now.

Finally the one called Frank called them off, like all packs there's a leader apparently he was alpha, and they listened.

"One more go, before we dump your ass pretty-boy" he murmured, yanking out the didilo and replacing it with his cock as he positions Jacks legs over his shoulders and thrust down, slowly, pleasure so intense it was painful washing over him, "God you've a tight ass pretty-boy" he groaned, a little surprised, the pretty-boy had had four cocks already and he was still virgin tight!

Jack was writhing against him trying to buck him off, useless, because he could barely move and when he did all it managed to do was impale himself harder, deeper on the man fucking him.

"Please…no more, I can't take it!" Jack begged pleading with his eyes and his voice, cracked and desperate, as he felt every inch of the cock thrusting inside of him – in, out, in, out – over and over.

"Please no more!" he begged tears trailing down his face, it hurt so bad he couldn't stop himself.

"_Doctor" _Jack thought trying to find that place inside where everything was shiny, and quite, and safe as he whispered _Doctor _like a prayer to the Stars.

He must have been saying it aloud to because the punks were sneering and talking again and he wished they'd just shut up already.

"He keeps asking for a doctor, what do ya make of that Greg?"

"Maybe he thinks we give a bollock" Jay sneered, Frank chuckled, "You want a doctor boy? Think a doctor can fix you now slut? You're nothing, you're broken" he whispered gutturally in Jacks ear, "No doctors gonna waste his time trying to fix you freak."

"No, no!" Jack muttered clenching his eyes closed so he didn't have to look at the man as the burning white agony hit him forcing an anguished scream past bloody chapped lips, hoarse and scratchy against an already raw throat, as the man bent his body to his pleasure – doling out more than his throbbing body could take, then a little more besides.

When Frank, Jay, Greg, and the rest were done with Jack they dumped him at the corner of a quiet and dirty looking street.

They opened the heavy sliding door and shoved him out, a squeal of tires and they were gone. Jack damn near cried with realif to be seeing the back of them, but he didn't.

They hadn't even bother to waste a bullet on him.

They just left him to bleed out all over the pavement down 36 James St. slick with rain and blood and the come that leaked down his thighs.

Weak and hurting from the assault done to his body he could do nothing but lay in the rain shivering and cold, naked, bloody, and humiliated to the core as the life slowly bled out of him Jack barely clinging to consciousness thought to himself, _"It was just sex, just sex. It didn't mean anything."_

* * *

**Author Note:_ Once more, thank you Athina! You're reviews are still inspiring, and I am pleased you think I've adequetly captured the Doctors character! No worries before long it'll be "Team Torchwood" to the rescue, plus one. lol. Enjoy!_**

_**Sherlocks Sparrow, thank you once again for a lovely review.**_

**R&R please!**

_;) _


	5. Chapter 5

*************************************************************************************************

Consciousness drifted in and out, dragging him from the painless peace that passed for sleep back out in the cold, wet, and rain.

He'd kind of hoped he would've died already and gotten it over with, no such luck.

This was going to be a slow one; he could feel it, the icy numbing coldness gradually creeping over him in millimeters and nanoseconds.

He could shoot himself and waste a bullet or wait it out…

Jack grimaced, _"Better to wait, gun shots tend to draw attention"_ which was the last thing he wanted right now was the black-and-whites swarming about. He knew they'd consider this the money shot.

Torchwoods Captain beaten and fucked by a bunch of randy punk kids who couldn't keep it in their pants.

He tried to move, to get up, to reach for his damn comm., only a few feet away but every muscle, every particle, every damn inch of him throbbed protesting violently when he attempted to get his feet beneath him.

Time was he could take a beating like this and keep moving; he _was_ getting old, wasn't he.

"_Its never been this bad"_ he consoled himself, the Valiant flashed through his mind, _"Couldn't have moved if I'd wanted back there, I was chained up for the duration of that little adventure." _

The rain was coming down with a vengeance now, big fat droplets plunking down across the expanse of his back, and legs and face until it felt like he had tears in his eyes, only they weren't salty and they wouldn't leave his eyes red and puffy later.

A more philosophical man might have thought it cleansing, Jack just thought it was cold.

* * *

The teams hour was up and the Doctor wasn't waiting around anymore twiddling his thumbs like he had nothing better to do, he had a friend to find and it was getting terribly late.

His only comfort was the knowledge that Jack couldn't die. The one thing that sat between them like the pink elephant in the room was the one thing he was relying on most.

Jack couldn't die, but he could be hurt, and in the Doctors book that wasn't acceptable.

The Torchwood team had split up a block from the Hub.

Owen and Toshiko went left down towards the Millennium Stadium where the Weevil had last been sited while Gwen went to try all the local pubs mumbling how she was going to phone a bloke name Andy. Which had left just him and the Jones boy circling the blocks surrounding the Hub, just incase Jack came stumbling back on his own two feet which was looking less and likely with every passing hour...

"Come on Jack, were are you?" he muttered whipping out his sonic-screwdriver the Doctor did a scan for 51st century pheromones in the air and got a match following his readings, he was off like a shot.

"Damn that man can run" Ianto muttered, he was a fit man all the chasing Torchwood did required it, but apparently the Doctor had been a World Class sprinter in a previous lifetime because he ran like his shoes were on fire.

Ianto wondered if something else motivated the good Doctor, but chose to shut down that line of thinking before it led to dangerous grounds.

Besides just because Jack had a thing for the Doctor did not mean the Doctor had a thing for _Jack_, either way it was out of his hands.

The Doctor heard the puffing Jones falling farther and farther behind but quite frankly he couldn't be bothered to stop. He had to find Jack.

He knew Jack couldn't die but there was this gnawing nibbling worry eating away at him that he couldn't explain, he needed to find Jack. _Now._

The Doctor skipped to a halt, nearly tripping as his white tennis shoes slipped and slew, which would have been disastrous.

"_Note to self, running in the rain can be hazardous." _

There were garbage cans of trash, there was a black ally cat cuddled beneath a sopping cardboard box meowing pitifully, but there was no Jack.

The rain, the Rift or both were running interference with his readings, blast it!

He was close he could feel it, so very close…

"Time to put this nose to the test" he mumbled extending his senses beyond the normal human range as he searched for that heady cocktail of 51st century pheromones that was entirely Jack Harkness.

"There!" there were those pheromones but there was something else, something that had the Doctor scrunching his nose in mild distaste, was that sex, or blood the two were to strongly entwined to tell which there was more of.

The Doctor started off following his nose, when a plaintive meow reached his ears it was pitiful enough to give him pause, "Oh all right, come here then, quickly now, haven't all day you know" he mumbled.

He was getting soft with age apparently. He stuffed the kitten inside his jacket, and then he was off after Jack – the kitten hitchhiking in his jacket all but forgotten.

The Doctor followed his nose and found Jack.

He'd been down pumped at the corner of 36 James Street, in an alleyway that stank horrendously garbage and what have you scattered all across the place and in the midst of this, slumped across the pavement stark naked and covered in blood, was Jack.

_Anger._ He could feel it rising in the back of his Time Lord consciousness.

Anger, it was such a primitive human emotion.

So simple and yet so powerful, that little human emotion had started wars and ended lives.

The adrenaline rush that came with it as the hormones pushed into the bloodstream like a platoon of foot soldiers preparing the body for those good ol' fight-or-flight responses that kept humans alive by the skin of their teeth.

Faster breathing as though his oxygen levels weren't perfectly normal, blood rushing to his limbs preparing for movement. All the senses sharpening to the point of painful, making that unique _'dirty alley'_ stench even more awful, and the silence near-to deafening.

Those were the physiological responses all lashing at him, clamoring for attention, waving about like a big red banner shouting:

_"Pay attention. Something's wrong." _

The Doctor possessed a strong constitution, strong enough to dine with the Slitheen he was returning to her home planet Raxacoricofallapatoriusto be executed, strong enough to witness the massacre at D-Day but he nearly emptied his stomach at the sorry state of his old friend.

It wasn't until wary blue eyes squinted up at him, a duller shade than he ever recalled them being, that he realized Jack was still alive, barely.

The agony there stole his breath.

"_The pain he must be in…" _

His eyes were glazed and hazy lacking that mischievous twinkle that something that always lit up his face for the briefest moment whenever he spotted the Doctor – gone all gone.

The Doctor told himself it was just an eclipse, a brief shadow that would pass over his soul and leave.

"You'll be okay, what am I saying! Of course you will, you're Jack, the man that cannot die, my fixed point in time. You'll be just fine Captain" the Doctor babbled rushed over to Jack only to have the man scramble backwards, or try to anyways.

It was a good thing he wasn't an actually threat because Jack barely got himself off his knees before he was folding in on himself with a gasp and a groan.

"Easy there Jack it's me, the Doctor."

The Doctor stared at Jack who silently stared back, his eyes unfocused.

His body language shouting:_ "Stay back!" _which confused the Doctor.

Didn't Jack recognize him?

"I'm not going to hurt you, we're friends remember?" the Doctor hoped Jack wouldn't remember Satellite 5 right then, that would not be helpful.

"Come on Jack, you remember me I'm the Doctor I travel in a blue-box we first met buring a London Raid when you created an alien epidemic of sorts…but that's not important, well, its in the past, come on Jack, its me" the Doctors certainty began to alter.

He looked at the blood turning the puddle around Jack pink and did a quick mental catalog of his injuries.

There were bruises all over his body, hand shaped bruises in places bruises had no place being – hips, thighs, dangerously low at the navel – there were thick lash marks across his back – the kind of damage done by a mans belt – his lips were cracked and looked a cross between having been hit or kissed to thoroughly, since this was Jack likely both.

Jack was barely moving, but for the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed quick panted breaths, as though stuck in his mind running through some horrible nightmare he couldn't fully escape.

Then there were the pinkish tear tracks left in the wake of tears and then there was the blood smeared heavily down his thighs.

"_Oh no, that cant be right, that cannot happen, not to Jack!" _Even as he fought to deny it he knew it was the cold hard truth, and a cold realization it was too.

_"He was raped."_

The Doctor ran a hand through his hair. A gesture of frustration and futility, as he felt his hearts break. He could literally _feel_ them crumbling as he thought of the things Jack must have suffered, the shame, degradation… _"No, no, don't go there, what was done was done and there is no undoing it"_ not even if he wanted to.

If he felt a touch of wetness at his cheeks he dismissed it as the rain.

Time Lords didn't cry.

"Stupid apes, stupid, stupid, stupid apes!" he muttered a helpless rage sweeping over him, the deed was done and there would be no undoing it but the Doctor dearly hoped he never ran across the humans responsible or he might do something he wouldn't_ really _regret like dropping them down a Black Hole, or an unpleasant and utterly foreign time period where things like this were unacceptable, accidents happen, especially to ignorant apes who raped and beat their fellow humans.

Particularly if one of those humans happened to be a Time Lords companion.

Jack was still staring at him with that eerie blank expression that reminded the Doctor of a blind man he'd met in Tripoli, but that was a whole different story.

"_Come on Jack there you go!" _recognition was dawning, the Doctor could tell because Jacks eyes brightened the slightest bit, a trademark Harkness smile creeping across his face.

"I'm dreaming, right? That or I'm dead, but I've never seen you before when I've died Doctor, I could get used to this" Jack mused sedately, not at all his usual loud and flirty self.

The Doctor didn't miss the fact that his voice was rough and weak; like it had been on the Valiant when he'd spend hours screaming as the Master slowly eviscerated him all because the Doctor had angered the insane Time Lord with his resistance.

"You're not dead Jack" _not yet, _he silently amended.

"And we both know that if this were your dream Captain I'd be as naked as you are now" the Doctor gently pointed out, but rather than the usual leer Jacks' face clouded over and he did something the Doctor had never seen before.

He blushed.

Any other time the Doctor would have found it highly amusing.

"_Jack Harkness, I didn't know you could"_ he might've said and Jack would have responded with some suggestive and lewd reply and they'd share a laugh before moving on, as it was the Doctors hearts pulsed with anger at the perpetrators.

Embarrassment hadn't been the response he'd been aiming for.

"_Since when did Jack Harkness have the good sense to be embarrassed?"_ The Doctor shook his head unhappily, "_He's ashamed."_

_"May they crawl under some rock and never come out"_ he thought a dark bitterness lacing the words. "_Jack Harkness, omni-sexual, impulsive flirt, intergalactic…shag, blushing in shame. I never thought to see the day."_

"Let me have a look at you, see what damages been done" he muttered, "I'm dying Doctor, internal bleeding broken bones, bruises, cuts, throat and…other stuff hurts like a son of a bitch" Jack explained, "Where's my clothes? My coat?" he asked looking around frantically.

"They seem to be scattered all over" the Doctor said putting a hand on the Captains shoulder he asked "Jack what happened?" Jack didn't recoil this time but he flinched at the touch.

The Doctor retrieved the closest thing that happened to be Jacks RAF coat, "Here, its cold" he said hanging it over Jacks shoulders. Jack stuck his arms through and pulled the familiar smelling wool closer, "Thanks" he muttered.

"Come on, up you go" the Doctor said helping Jack onto his feet, which he stayed on for all of ten seconds before he fell back down with a whimper.

"Cant, sorry Doctor, they did a good number on me this time."

The Doctor resigned himself to waiting, because there was nothing he could do for Jack now.

"You're getting all wet" Jack muttered looking at the Doctor whose hair was plastered to his forehead, the Doctor forced a wide _everything-alright_ smile.

"So are you."

"Meow" the kitten chose then to stick its head out of the Doctors' coat, and the sopping wetness, and uncomfortable bundle of fur was made worth it when Jack laughed quietly the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"Picked up another stray have you?"

The Doctor grinned, "Well at least this one wont have designs on my person" he retorted, "I don't think this stray will be having designs on anyone for a while" Jack said dryly.

"You are not a stray!" the Doctor exclaimed a sad look passing over his face. "I'm surprised at you Jack, don't you know? Once a companion, always a companion."

Jack smirked, "All for one, and one for all, eh?"

"I never pegged you for a Musketeers sort of man Jack" the Doctor replied, "I've pegged all sorts, I've _been_ pegged by al sorts, " Jack said with a sardonic tilt of his lips that put the Doctor at ease.

If the man could still spout crude jokes after this then he would be fine given time – something he had plenty of. Jack was still Jack, thankfully, and Jack wasn't Jack if he wasn't oozing with sexual innuendos and flamboyant charm.

_"Captain of the Innuendo Squad"_ Mickey had once called him. How right he was. It was all part of Jacks special Harkness charm.

"I'm sure you have Captain" the Doctor replied with the barest hint of a grin.

"Clothes, really should get dressed…others here soon" Jack was muttering his eyes drooping shut as his injuries took their toll.

The Doctor helped Jack lean back against the lamppost smoothing his hair back, "Let go Jack, I've got you," he murmured his voice a mix of command and comfort, smooth and steady.

Jack was nothing if not stubborn and he was holding onto life with the fever of a boy afraid to turn out the light for fear of the boogeyman beneath his bed. He was afraid.

The Doctor could have smacked himself for his previous callousness, did Jack always hold on this tightly?

"Captain, you need to listen to me, can you do that?" Jack nodded humming slightly his head resting at the crook of his shoulder it wasn't comfortable, the pavement was dirty and wet and diseased and Jack was bloodied like the sacrificial lamb, but he wasn't about to let go of him because he was _uncomfrotable_.

"Good, that's good. Now Jack, do you trust me?" another nod, faint, a fractional tilt of his head blue eyes eclipsed behind the ever growing pain dulling his blue-blue eyes. Blue as the moons of Avalon.

"Then believe me when I say you're safe, do you hear me? Safe."

The hand grasping his tightened. He took that as understanding.

"Alright" the Doctor said mostly to himself as his touched his finger tips against Jacks temple ever so slightly,_ "Let go Jack, you're safe."_

Let go? Jack didn't know if he could, but the Doctor asked him to trust him and he did. Really. If you don't he'll think you don't, a voice whispered in his ear. Jack shuddered.

_You're safe_. The Doctor said it, so it must be true…Jack heard that voice slip inside his head and this time he didn't fight it letting it lull him into a peaceful death as the world blackened at the edges and all he had to hold on to was the Doctors hand.

It was enough.

"Stick around?" he asked hopefully knowing he came off sounding like a clingy thirteen year old girl, but who cares, it had been one hell of a night he'd earned the right to a little bit of clinginess.

"I'll be here" the Doctor gravely replied but Jack was already gone from the land of the living for the moment.

Closing those blue-blue eyes that had lost there shine he looked at the body in his arms, as though he'd never seen it before. Maybe he hadn't.

The Doctor heard the others as they approached James Street, the heavy breathing of the Jones boy as he caught his breath, the telling silence from Toshiko, the ex-police woman's vile cursing, and the doctors mutterings as they stood around soaking in the rain, the Captain dressed in his standard clothes his cherished RAF coat buttoned to the throat, but still bloody at their feet.

"What happened here?" Ianto demanded.

He was the first to comments on all the blood pooling around the Doctor and Jack whom he held limp and lifeless.

"I don't know" he lied; the words bitter and harsh on his tongue.

"_How could a human do such a thing to another?"_

The human race had great potential it was why he loved them after all.

Humans and their little quirks and ideas barely brushing the surface of the universe but always reaching, like a child grasping at moonbeams.

But here and now, holding onto Jack – bloodied, beaten and raped – he began to wonder, question, how many of them were there like Jack Harkness, Sarah Jane, Rose Tyler, Mickey, Donna Noble, Martha Jones?

_How many were worth saving? _

* * *

**Author Note: _To all that have reviewed, thank you!!!_**


	6. Chapter 6

*************************************************************************************************

Owen Harper hated being left in the dark.

He was the doctor here damnit! He needed to know what was wrong with Jack.

_Why had he been out so long? What had killed him this time?_

The Doctor had spaced out after they arrived on the scene, looking like someone had told him the world was flat and his dog was dead. He'd looked crushed and very fragile cradling Jacks' lifeless body in his arms as the rain pelted down leaving them all sopping wet.

He was already showing signs of an oncoming cold which was just friggin' perfect, as though his day hadn't been bad enough already with out the common cold to add to its glamour.

Between Owen and Gwen they had pulled Jack away from the Doctor and loaded him into the back of the Torchwood SUV, and now they were in the Med lab at the Hub waiting for Jack to revive.

That's when the good Doctor spoke breaking the silence he'd held to since they'd found Jack, "He'll be needing an exam, doctor" which made Owen snort rudely, "That'd be a bloody waste of time all this while I thought you knew mate, Jacks immune to death."

The Doctor swiveled from his position of bedside-guardian beside Jack pinning Owen with a dark, furious look that made Owen step back and think _"Okay, I get it, now I see why he's the boogeyman for aliens" _because looking into those eyes was like looking into the heart of the Universe, so much knowledge, so much pain, so much pent-up rage – it was frightening.

"To death, yes, but not to pain"

"He seems fine"

"Seems fine? Is that you're professional opinion or you're best guess? Fine is not dead, fine is not covered with, with, lacerations down ones back and arse, fine is not bruised lovely shades of black-and-blue, fine is not r-" the Doctor stop speaking abruptly choking on the last, unsaid, word his face becoming like stone.

"Is not what?"

The Doctor looked away folding his arms, his message clear.

He was done talking.

"Is not what? Tell me damnit!" Owen waved his arms wildly "What's going on here Doctor. What am I missing because I bloody well know there's something you're not fucking telling us, isn't there?"

The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck and turned away from Owen and Jack saying over his shoulder, "Just do your examination doctor," drawing out the title like a mockery of his profession that had Owen clenching his fists until his knuckles cracked, lips thinning in a sneer.

"Lot of help you are _Doctor_, you have any more vague advice for me today, or is that it, have you filled your quota for the time being, I heard about you, yeah that's right" Owen ranted, "The supposed Defender of the Earth, always swanning off, never sticking around to clean up the mess you make, I bet you cant wait to get out of here!" Owen accused.

"Don't presume to know me Doctor Owen Harper, because you known nothing! No, I cant always stop to chat, and I'm sorry but I'm usually a bit busy what with saving the world and all!" the Doctor snapped back his gaze returning to Jack his eyes gentled at the edges "And you're wrong I promised Jack I'd be here when he wakes and I will" the Doctor said vehemently, his hands resting alongside Jack own, almost touching but not quite.

"I always keep my word."

Owen snorted disdainfully turning his attention to his patient peeled the dirtied RAF coat off of Jack making a mental note to have Ianto send it to the dry-cleaners, that's when Owen lost his clinical professionalism and completely forgot the Doctor pacing along the opposite side of the lab like the bloody energizer bunny.

Always moving, this Doctor was.

"Oh God, no, no, no, this cant be right" he muttered his experience told him exactly what he was looking at. There were bruises all over Jacks' body but the most prominent ones were the hand-shaped ones at his hips and the crescent-moon shaped cuts left where fingernails dug in deep.

His wrists were a bloody mess, the skin torn and ripped.

_Restraints._

All of it pointed to one thing.

"Maybe…maybe he just went looking for a little rough sex, that would explain it" Owen said quietly knowing the words for a lie the moment the crossed his lips.

_"No one asks for this, not even Jack."_

"Jack doesn't mix pain with pleasure."

"And you would know that how?" Owen demanded, he liked his idea; it was a better picture than the ones drawn in bloody detail across Jacks body, painted on like a morbid abstraction.

"Jack did it once and nearly died back when dead meant dead, no exceptions, no exclusions" the Doctor said his voice calm and detached and entirely fake, Owen could see the emotions swimming in the Doctors dark eyes for a second before they blinked out, and all he saw was the façade.

This Doctor did care, a lot, more than he would like maybe.

Owen sighed, shaking his head emphatically "Guess that changes things doesn't it then."

"Jack was raped."

"God I never thought I'd be saying that, I mean Jacks hardly the hardest bloke to get in bed to begin with, there was no need, they didn't have to…do this, damnit, this is so wrong" Owen muttered his eyes clinically sweeping over Jacks prone form, "That must have been bloody painful."

"Jack's tough, he'll be alright, he will you'll see" the Doctor said pulling the Med sheet up over Jacks exposed waist, he should be waking any moment now the Doctor could almost feel the Vortex coiling inside him drawing life into his body, no matter how wrong it was, to the Doctor it had never felt more _right._

"You're right of course, he's the toughest man I've ever has the misfortune to meet. He'll be fine, in the end it was just sex" Owen said wearily the Doctor spun on him so fast he knocked over a tray, the contents rattling loudly as they scattered across the floor.

"Don't" the Doctor said sternly a warning in his eyes.

"Don't what?" Owen asked picking up his things so he wouldn't have to look at Jack, pale and lifeless and violated on his medical examination table.

It twisted his insides something terrible if he thought to hard about what had happed to their Captain.

"Don't pretend they're the same thing, they're not."

"Its how Jacks going to think of it"

"I know."

There was so much unsaid in those two words so much history, understanding, that they – Jacks team – would never have.

"How am I going to tell the others?" Owen muttered.

"You're not"

"I have to."

"Whatever happened to doctor-patient confidentiality?" the Doctor inquired wearily, Owen shrugged dispassionately "He's dead, doesn't apply."

The Doctor stepped closer, nose-to-nose with Owen.

"How would you feel if this happened to you, if you were beaten within an inch of your life, raped, then beaten some more and you're colleagues were informed before you yourself had time to deal with what had been done, hmm? What then Doctor Owen Harper? Would you want them hovering, watching, knowing?" the Doctor demanded his voice deadly soft, "Is that what you'd want?"

Owen crossed his arms, "Yes" he said, out of spite.

The Doctor stared at him for an unspeakable moment, sizing up Owen like a potential problem he needed to analyze. "Liar, liar, blimey PJs on fire."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh you heard me Mr. Harper, you're a boldfaced liar. Boldfaced liar, huh, wonder where that one came from…is it even possible to be boldfaced? Never mind" the Doctor said with a shake of his head that sent wet hair onto his forehead. His clothes were still sopping wet, drip dropping puddles all over the Hub wherever he went.

Ianto would be cleaning that Owen supposed.

"You are not to tell the others, is that understood?"

"Who the hell do you think you are? You can't order me around in my own lab. I'll do what I bloody well please, what are you going to do about it, huh?" Owen snapped annoyed that this skinny man in his pinstriped suite and bed-head hair thought he could waltz into his domain, his lab, and tell him what was what.

"I don't rightly know, but you can be sure you wont like it."

"Is that a threat?"

"Of course not, don't be daft," the Doctor said turning away from the British man to watch Jack, soon he'd be waking with a gasp and a flail any moment now… "Just a friendly warning."

Owen grumbled but let the matter lie.

The Doctor was right.

Maybe it wouldn't be as bad as he thought, maybe Jack would wake up and everything would be normal again. _"Yeah, right and maybe I'll pick out a pink tutu and dance to Brittany Spears in the town square."_

Jack Harkness woke up with a gasp and a flail, a familiar hand grasping his reaching hand as he escaped from the darkness back into the land of the living. His eyes flicked around unsteadily, until they landed on the man who was clasping his hand and he thought he must be hallucinating, but his hands felt so real, and he had that Look in his eye, like someone had died on him again.

"Doctor?"

"Hello, Jack."

Jack struggled upright; tightly clutching the clinical white lab sheet at his waist, not even consciously realizing what he was doing, "Doctor what's wrong? Did…is…Martha alright?" unable to contain the worry from leaking through. The thought of anything happening to that girl made him cringe, she was a rising star at her peak with so much more to see, to do.

The Doctor smiled gently, awkwardly patting his shoulder, "Cant I wont to pop in on an old friend?"

"Course, I just wasn't expecting you"

"Yes well I didn't plan on coming here, I just seemed to end up here, looks like it was a good thing to, eh?" the Doctor said quietly and Jack sat back weak kneed remembering the hell that had led to this, him and the Doctor in the Torchwood Med lab and him clutching the white lab sheet like a shield.

"Get dressed would you, not all of us like staring at your white arse!" Owen muttered tossing Jacks' clothes at him.

He awkwardly caught them, still holding the sheet the Doctor noticed, remembering a time when Jack would have dropped the sheet with a cocksure you-know-you-wanna-look grin.

"_I look good naked" _he'd once said, and he wasn't wrong.

Seeing the clean angular lines of his face, his strong jaw, sensually curved lips, the Doctor felt himself respond instantly and wanted to be sick. Thinking about Jack like that wasn't right. Not now.

"Um, I know I'm hot but could you turn around or something?"

The Doctor turned away quickly squashing the spark of physical desire that had flared up unexpectedly. The line was a straight-up Jackism but it fell flat, the smile to stiff, to utterly fake. Neither the Doctor nor Owen called him on it.

But they were both thinking it.

This wasn't Jack. Jack was unashamedly everything sexual from the waggle of his eyebrow to come-hither smirks.

"Their, its safe now Owen, my white arse is covered. Better not tell Ianto you were staring."

Owen gaped unattractively, his mouth hanging open like a fish out of water.

"He's got a possessive streak, you'd be surprised the ideas he gets in that head of his" Jack laughed heartily, "The look on your face…" he shook his head, "What? You're staring."

"Jack mate, what do you remember of tonight?" Owen asked carefully wondering if maybe a miracle had happened and the Captain wouldn't remember.

After all if he didn't remember it, then technically it never happened.

Owen crossed his fingers and prayed for the first time in his adult life.

"Nothing. Nada, zilch. Why did I miss something good?" Jack asked, "I remember this one time, a long, long time ago, when I got good and smashed on Ariel and in the morning woke up with not one but three beautiful, butt-naked girls and couldn't remember a damn thing about the night before, what a damn shame that was because apparently they had such a good time they left me a large payment of credits with their numbers, before I got around to calling I ran into the Doctor."

Jack smiled, "Was to busy running for my life then for pleasure calls" the Doctor raised an eyebrow, "If I recall correctly there was that time on Beta-Nine, and Delta-Eight, and lets not forget Trifolia."

"And Potentillahepatica?"

"How could I forget Potentillahepatica."

A faint grin twitched at the Doctors mouth as he remembered the various tomfoolery Jack had gotten them into.

For all the trouble he was, he was also fun.

Always up for a good laugh, good joke, good roll in the sheets Jack was.

"Remember Pratense-Yescii?"

The Doctor sighed rolling his eyes.

"Jack…"

The Captain arched an eyebrow.

"What?" he asked with all the innocence of a devil.

The Doctor crossed his arms, "You are impossible."

"Yeah, you said that before."

"No, before I said you where an impossible thing."

"Schematics."

Owen cleared his throat, once more feeling very much in the dark as the Doctor and Jack shared this friendly banter that spoke of trust, and friendship, and other sickly sweet things that made Owen want to hurl.

"_What the hell are they going on about, Beta-Nine, Delta-Eight, Ariel those aren't place, are they?"_

"Right, almost forgot you their Mr. Harper" the Doctor said that boyish grin fading as though Owen was somehow an unpleasant reminder of why they were here, as thought this were all his fault.

_"No, now I'm projecting. This wasn't my fault, I know that, and if this Doctor is half as clever as Jack thinks he does too."_

"Its Doctor Harper, Doctor."

"This could get confusing, two Doctors, one Medical Lab, what do you get?" Jack inquired with a knowing smirk that had both residents Doctors groaning "Jack!" with equal levels of frustration.

"Nope, wrong answer."

The Doctor watched as Jack smiled and smirked and put on an elaborate show for Mr. Harper and himself, but that was exactly what it was. A show. A shame. A façade.

A brilliant, well scripted one, with Jack as the star. He got every cue, knew his lines by heart but the Doctor knew all the same that Jack was not as fine, or clueless, as he pretended. He was doing something the Doctor never thought to see Captain Jack Harkness do.

He was running, as far and fast as he could from the memories dogging his steps. The Doctor saw through the enactment only because he recognized the shadow in Jacks' eyes, the stiffness of his smile.

He'd been there before.

And he also knew that running never really worked.

"Doctor meet Gwen Cooper, Ianto Jones, and Toshiko Sato" Jack said with a flamboyant gesture somehow encompassing them all and the entire Hub, too.

There was no missing the pride that shone in his eyes.

Jack had finally found a purpose other than chasing after a blue police box in the stars. The Doctor wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that but he knew how he should feel.

_Relieved._

Very relieved, relieved as the mythological Atlas then the world was taken off of his shoulders. Maybe Atlas was a bit much; he was hardly the world to Jacks Atlas but still. He should be, relieved that is.

But he really, really wasn't.

But that was wide of the mark odd, wrong even and other bigger things he was afraid to contemplate, so he did what he did best he disregarded-ignored-overlooked, it.

"Yes, we've met. Quite the team you've put together here Jack even if your methods are a tad dodgy" the Doctor tacked on, unable to resist. Jack huffed a laugh, "Dodgy? We just try and do what you do, without you're indomitable cleverness and a smidgen less running."

The Doctor flicked a casual glance over Jack and nodded seriously, "Yes I can see that."

Jack for his part just chuckled.

"Where did you leave the TARDIS Doctor?"

"Oh she's around somewhere."

"You don't bloody know where your own ship is?" this from an exasperated Owen, "Of course he knows, don't you Doctor, he's just being coy, but that's understandable. We are Torchwood" Jack said with a casual shrug.

Owen blinked before saying "Oh," and if the Doctor didn't know better he'd think there was a dash of disappointment mixed in there somewhere.

"I guess you'll be needing some spare clothes, seeing as how your clothes are all wet and clingy, and…"

"Jack"

J-aa-ck"

Nothing. Jack had drifted off, lost in thought likely finishing off that sentence with graphic detail in his head. The Doctor bit his lip finding this oddly amusing, apparently the thought of him all _'wet and clingy'_ and knowing Jack very naked too, was enough to send the human into a daze.

It was really quite flattering.

"Jack!"

"Huh? What, oh right, clothes."

The Doctor had crossed and uncrossed his arms several times before Jack returned with a suitable change of clothes, the shirts were a wee bit large and he'd need a belt for the trousers but in the end it worked out well enough.

Even if he did feel like he was playing dress up in the Captains clothes.

The Doctor also noticed that they smelled like him, not the raunchy last weeks sweat kind of smell but a faint dab of that unique something that was purely Jack Harkness, and the Doctor found out much to his surprise, he rather liked it. And if that wasn't strange Earth with a Purple sun and a Yellow moon, and a Violet sky then well, he wasn't a Time Lord.

All the facts could hardly be wrong the rules of logic dictated if it quacked like a duck, and looked like a duck then it usually was a _duck_.

The though that he was comparing himself to a duck was off putting to say the least.

He was going mad, he was. And yet all his mental faculties were in perfect working order and nothing specific was wrong with him which left only one answer…And there it was, plain as the nose on his face, and the stripes on his suit.

"_Blimey, I think I'm falling for Captain Jack Harkness."_

The idea completely blindsided him, popping up from the myriad of things zipping through his mind at warp speed. But it was the most confounding because if it was true and he wasn't admitting that for a moment, then he was in for some serious trouble. Now was the worst possible time to start feeling things, other than friendship, for the Captain.

_A)He'd just been assaulted._

_B)He was involved with Jones_

_C)Where in the Cosmos had these, dare he say it, feelings, come from?_

Bad timing wasn't showing up late for a wedding. Bad timing was the TARDIS appearing in the midst of the 1918 Battle of San Won with Theodore Roosevelt charging down the front lines.

Bad timing was plotting the wrong course and winding up in Phryxus on the eve of intergalactic war. Bad timing wasn't forgetting the odd anniversary, because really who ever remembered?

Bad timing was boarding the Titanic before its historic sinking. _"The ship that couldn't possibly be sunk, please, it was doomed the moment those words were spoken"_ the universe didn't like impossible things.

Even if, maybe, the Doctor did.

_That_ right there was bad timing, but the Doctor he had the worst timing in the history of bad timing.

His hearts were set on the Captain apparent by the way they beat like drums against his chest whenever Jack entered the room, so loudly that the Doctor thought for sure he'd notice.

Thankfully, he didn't.

Then his stomach rebelled doing ridiculous flip-flops when Jack brushed past just a little to close.

Furthermore he was having the darnest time keeping his eyes on what he was doing, a nifty computer upgrade for Ms. Sato, and off of Jack-bloody-Harkness.

Of all the times they might've chosen to go and fall for someone they chose now, and they chose Jack. That was bad timing, in the history of bad timing.

And the Doctor should know, he'd been there.

* * *

**Author Note:_ Thank you everyone for the wonderful reviews, and a special thank you to Sherlocks Sparrow for being such a good sport about helping me fill in the blanks when my Muse was lacking. And to Athnina for the reviews, you made my day, I hope you've enjoyed "Eclipse" and are satisied with the ending I've come too. There is a sequal in the works, in case anyone wanted to know._**

**_Again, thank you all, reviews feed a writers soul, and the Muses inspiration._**


End file.
